


Night Terrors

by CultureisDarkBeer



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Mutual Masturbation, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sleepovers, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 14:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CultureisDarkBeer/pseuds/CultureisDarkBeer
Summary: Mulder develops night terrors after their case in Home, Pennsylvania so Scully invites him to spend the night in her guest bedroom, but as he begins to sleepwalk she wonders if she signed on for more than she bargained for.From the Tumblr Prompt "We could try cuddling"





	Night Terrors

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a prompt so not my usual quality of work. Quick and dirty and non-canon. I wrote it during my break while eating yogurt with bee pollen along with some iced tea I had in a bag. Please be gentle.😉

“You feeling alright Mulder?” Scully asked as she handed him his alien mug filled with piping hot coffee. 

Mulder booted up this computer, gratefully accepting the java, sipping it with care. “Yeah, why?” 

“There’s a set of matching luggage underneath your eyes,” Scully replied.

Mulder bobbed his head in agreement. “Sleep walking. I woke up the night before in my bathtub. Last night I was trying to jump out my window.”

Scully furrowed her brows, taking her seat on the other end of his desk. “Have you had night terrors before?”

“When I was a child. I’d hear these terrifying voices and sometimes I’d run. In my dream and real life.” Mulder leaned back in his chair, his pointer finger caressing his chin in contemplation. “Maybe you.. You could come over tonight. Make sure I don’t play superman out the window.”

“Mulder, you don’t have a place for me to sleep. You don’t even have a bed.”

“I have a bed,” Mulder said defensively, “maybe not the widely accepted definition of a bed, but I’m very satisfied with my accommodations.” Mulder shook his head as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Look, forget I even brought it up. I’ll ask Agent Sharpe, she’s wanted to see my place anyway, or maybe Terry, in accounting.”

Scully’s tongue darted out just enough to coat her top lip. “I have a guest bedroom. You can sleep there for a couple nights.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Mulder said leaning forward and Scully could swear he was batting his eyes at her as he crossed his legs.

“It’s not a probem,” Scully relented, “It’ll be like a sleepover.”

“Friends have sleepovers,” Mulder reminded her.

“We could watch a movie,” she suggested.

“Popcorn...”

“Root beer floats...” she returned. She was having fun now. It might be nice to have Mulder over; and spending time with him doing something off the clock other than reviewing casefiles, might be enjoyable. Well, until he added, “Ghost stories.”

That night in Scully’s apartment…

Scully woke from a sound sleep. Something had crashed in the other room. A relentless banging echoed through the darkness inside her apartment. Scully rushed out of bed and there Mulder stood, pacing from room to room, breathing hard, sweat pouring from his forehead, determined, as if searching for something. 

“Mulder! Mulder! What are you… Mulder.. Can you hear me?” Scully called. Here we go, she thought.

“MULDER, MULDER!” He thrashed frantically back and forth, with long strides he headed to the window, struggling to get it open, attempting to climb out. Pounding his fists into the windowsill.

“Mulder, come to bed. Mulder you’re safe, you’re safe Mulder, I’m here now.” She repeated the words the therapist had suggested, over and over trying to break him from his spell.

He looked at her with a hollow blind stare, then allowed her to lead him to the guest bed. There, he laid in the fetal position, while she caressed his arm over and over. His emotions had become hers - she felt his loneliness and fear, his heartbreak - and she held it all inside her own heart as she settled down beside him, pressing her face firmly to his back, listening to his own heart beat against her ear. 

“Relax Mulder,” she said in more soothing tones. “You’re safe. I’m here, and you’re safe.” She felt his muscles quivering underneath her arm, and she held him tighter; coaxing them both to sleep; Continuing to repeat in a whisper as her voice slowly faded, “I’m here, you’re safe, I’m not going anywhere.”

The following morning...

“I’m thinking tonight, we may want to sleep in the same bed,” Mulder suggested, sitting in his office chair, legs crossed at the ankles, using his heel as a pivot to rock side to side.

“Mulder.”

“I’m serious.” Mulder put up his hand like he was taking an oath. “No touching, no cuddling, no sex. It’s just that you sleep like a log. Unless I step on your head, I might wind up on the ledge next time.” 

Scully’s finger comforted her lip as she stared out at the photographs of crop circles pinned to the cork board. “And how is being in the same bed any different? You could still escape without waking me?”

“You could handcuff me to you,” he said as he picked up a pencil and twirled it in his hand.

“Then _I_ won’t sleep,” she countered. Not certain what he had up his sleeve, she shifted uneasily. 

“We could use a rope then,” he suggested lowering his tone to almost a whisper, observing Scully’s patience waver. 

That night, Scully lay on her back, an old nautical rope tied to her ankle, with Mulder lying beside her. She recalled a distant fantasy she had of them possibly, one day, sharing a bed. This wasn’t it. 

“As immuned as I am to your sexual advances Scully, I have had the occasional sexual fantasy of being with a stuffed Carebear.”

Letting out a loud huff, Scully reluctantly shed the brightly colored jacket she was wearing. Its purpose had been to halt his temptations, but even if she had on her white oversized ski jacket, he’d probably admit to a strange fetish for the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. 

Four hours later, a swift tug at Scully’s foot woke her from deep sleep, and sent her into a barrel roll, off the bed and landing, sprawled, on top of Mulder. Her chest heaved against his as she attempted to catch her breath, realizing, to her dismay, that her leg had found a home, pressed firmly against his morning erection. 

“What, are you doing?” She demanded, tufts of red hair falling into her eyes, her nose grazing his.

“I had to go to the bathroom,” he returned in an overly innocent boyish whine.

Scully tried to shift off of him, but the rope had wrapped so many times around her ankle that she was stuck. The more she struggled, the more her silk pajamas rubbed against his now formidable erection. “Mulder, this is not working for me.”

Mulder pulled in his lips, then tilted his head as he raised his brow with a shrug, “We could try cuddling?”

*****************************

“If these dreams are merely a manifestation of a desire, than perhaps the reason we are a married couple in them is because you have a desire for us to be closer,” Scully surmised and Mulder’s face scrunched up like he had smelled rotten fish. “I’m not saying romantically or physically, but possibly closer in ideology. Lately we have been traveling down uniquely different investigative paths.”

“And where do the children fall into place? And the house? I was happy. We.. were happy. I could feel the hard boards of the porch under my feet, the comfort of a chair, the smell of pine in the air. I’ve got a whiff of it now.”

“The only thing I got a whiff of Mulder is the Rueben you had for lunch. Sauerkraut does not bode well with you.”

“I’m trying to be serious.”

“I don’t know. Maybe, it’s you believing you don’t deserve that kind of family life since your sister was taken from you or it’s a manifestation of guilt, or it goes back to the conversation we had on the bench in our last case in Home, Pennsylvania. We were discussing you wanting to live out in the country and genetics and children. Perhaps it’s as simple as that. A conversation that got stuck in your subconscious. 

“Possibly.”

***************************

Five days he had spent in her apartment without incident and she felt he might now be capable of being without a watchful eye, and then on the sixth night…

“Scully. SCULLY!” 

Scully snaked an arm around him in comfort, his body already in the fetal position. “Mulder, I’m here. What are you seeing?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he buried her inside his embrace, his heat radiating into her. His hands moving over her like ocean waves over hot sand. Pulling her under, rocking her back, slowly simmering until their electric heat churned like a furnace. She was unsure what type of dream he had awakened from, but the change in tempo moved her. Swept up in the current, her body responded before her mind could stop it.

His hand brushed her nipple as it made its way inside his boxers. She watched as it pressed into the smooth flesh of his thickening erection, the sensitive nerves physically throbbing against his fingers. The palm of his other hand passed over her hair in reverence and he planted a kiss to her forehead. 

He lowered his boxers, exposing himself and palming it excruciatingly, passionately slow. “Have you ever had something that big inside you?” His voice low and hoarse. He continued to pump himself, Scully watching in awe, his big hand hardly covering half of his length. Scully bit into her lip so hard she tasted blood trying to hold back her desire.

“You need to earn this,” he replied to her silence. 

Before a thought, in a whirlwind of dripping sensual bliss, she leaned down and kissed the swollen head, tasted him between her lips, down her throat. She felt the pull of his grip on her hair, tight enough to bring tears to her eyes. Eagerly, he pushed her head towards him, thrusting up until she began to choke, until she relaxed her jaw, until drool dripped and flattened the hair of his scrotum; his hand coming to wipe her saliva pooling along his base and lubricating the strokes that met hers. Groaning his other hand pressed at her esophagus to feel the motion of his own cock as he pulled out and pushed back in. 

He was scraping the back of her throat, scorching it like the one time she sucked on a weed pipe in college.The corners of her lips stretching uncomfortably, as the thickness of his length forced them wider. Her body throbbed from it. Uncontrollably she hummed the pleasure into his cock. “That’s it, tell me how much you like that big dick sliding against your tongue,” he rasped in ragged breaths.

Scully sucked harder, his uncharacteristic words almost ending her, dragging her to the edge. “Uhhh,” he moaned, and rotated his hips, the base of his cock forcing her teeth to press against the inside of her mouth. 

_Yes. Yes. Yes._ He thrusted. Once. Twice. Her thighs quivered, her center pooled and tightened, anticipating the pulsing of her muscles. She yearned for him to send hot streams down her throat, to feel his body succumb to the pleasure she was giving him. 

Her heart raged and she was suddenly stricken with panic that it might all change. Like a bucket of ice water dumping on her head, abruptly her jaw receded, her teeth lightly scraping the crown of his cock as he also withdrew suddenly. 

“Scully,” he sounded as frightened as she felt. “Wh-What’s happening?” 

Quickly she slid up alongside him, wrapping her arms around him, unable to look at him, tears bursting from her eyes. She felt his arms tighten delicately around her, soothing, comforting. “It’s okay, Scully,” he mumbled into her hair.

He had been asleep. Unconscious. Caught in a dream state. Trapped within his night terrors. And she..she.. _molested him_ ?.. _raped him_?

“Hey,” he said softly, slowly bringing her back to him.

She shook her head almost violently sending her tears splattering along his neckline.”You weren’t awake.”

“Scully.” She lifted her head, she felt his fingers at the back of her neck and dared to meet his gaze. His thumb stroked her tears away. “I’m awake now..” 

Her head shook ever slower, but his eyes, kind, understanding, passionate, wanting. Her eyes closed and her lips felt his cover them, push them apart, and penetrate the opening they created with his tongue. She moaned. 

His hand fell between them, a finger pushing the band of black silk to the side, the first thing she felt, the coarseness of cuticles, followed by the coolness of his hard finger rubbing against the tender heated flesh inside her. 

_Mulder_ . _Inside_. Her lips opened wider, tongue pressing harder, devouring him as his arrogance rubbed against her.

She lifted her leg to rest at his hip and pulled him closer with her heel, reaching down, kneading and pumping at his erection.

The pleasure bled from their mouths igniting a firestorm that emanated from their thighs, stroking to the rhythm of their desire. She tugged him closer and he slowed, finally receding. She nodded. 

“This is our friendship Scully, it’s everything. I need you to say it.”

She searched his eyes until she felt their tether. “I want this Mulder. I want you.” 

His cock pushed and tore against her sensitive flesh as it slid inside. He released a long groan, his hand clutching the small of her back like the handle of a rollercoaster. Scully moaned. Pain. No time for her to adjust to the severity her insides were being stretched. He joined their lips again, relaxing her, allowing pleasure and ache to flood in. Their life, their trust, guiding their pulsing nerves. His motions quickened and she lost her breath. Her anxietities wouldn’t allow her an orgasm, so she clung to his, feeling it build inside her, feeling the pleasure she gave him overtake all his senses, and when he poured into her, her heart pumped freely.

She felt his bicep muscles flex and chest tighten as he clung to her, needing her connection. After all, they had rebelled against fate and entered a forest that had no clear path.

He answered their fears, “We will find our way, Scully.”


End file.
